I hadn't hit he water in a week or two, seems like forever. Snowboarding has occupied my time, its been one powder day after another, I can't complain. But I was feeling the itch and the past few weeks had been moderately busy and a bit maddening due to a broken phone…. Ah, a welcomed high pressure was here, normally I wouldn't say that but it gives me an explanation to hit the river.
I had a chance to meet up with Jerry (Nova) in the morning; the plan was to meet Mike and co. at the river and go from there. Upon arrival we discovered that Mike's roomy had a leak in the waders, a big leak. So they packet up and left the river open to Jerry and I.
As the driver he gets the first shot and in no time he had a fish to hand…. then another one. By this time I was re-rigging to the contagious fly, pink worm. My finger tips were freezing and my knot tying abilities were deteriorating miserably. I am not a good nympher, not sure if the continuous rigging or the lack of patients, but between the two it’s a recipe for failure. Once I "thought" I had it and it slipped or brokeà and repeat and repeat. Finally, after 20 minutes I was ready. A few casts here a few casts there, bam I was on, sweet… and just as fast it over, I lost it…. #%@^&!!! What happened? I gathered my line to take a closer look, yep I can clearly see what happened…. bad knot, %@*@$#*! I lost my 20-minute rig in just a few seconds and lost my last pink piggy. All because of one frustrated knot, it was over, lesson learned… again ; ) Jerry stepped back up to bat, while I rigged, and landed a nice sucker fish.
Signs of a midge hatch could be seen on the waters surface, it was really going off.. As we made our way up, I noticed a spot that "looks fishy". Winter fishing is a bit different that the standard summer runs, the fish move around in search for a good winter home. So, this particular spot was 50-50, maybe, maybe not. I heaved my weighted rig anyway. A few casts later I had a nice Rainbow/Cutthroat hybrid on, the colors were brilliant. Made a few more casts with no strikes, one last cast at the head of the run, and a fat little Brown was tugging at the end of the line. That bought back the smiles. We left, pushing on to the next spot.
Jerry was up… a great looking deep hole was ahead. This had to produce. The first strikes were very soft, almost too soft… but not for Jer, he didn't get fooled, he set the hook on this one. At first neither of us cold tell what it was, there wasn't a visual. The rod was bent so White Fish came to mind. Then it jumped, actually skyrocketed out of the water, a fat old Brown! Jerry fought it really well, landed it perfectly. He even shared a snow cone with it : ) And then landed the hippo of the hole, a huge fat sucker! That thing was enormous to say the least and the photos don't do it justice.
I lost another rig, nothing new but I really didn't care. I got a few fish and satisfied tojust enjoying the scenery and the surrounding sounds. The snow was fairly high on the banks, sun was bight and the weather was perfect. Animal tracks could be seen at most any river edge or crossing, birds were flying and trout were feeding, woo-hoo life is good. … But take a step back and you see, trains, planes and automobiles, some trash, some graffiti a few pieces of art and a backdrop that was created by something only nature can provide. Why people litter I have no idea, I don't think they do either. We hit a few more holes, watched the plethora of midges hatching. The snow-covered banks were covered with midges, big ones, small ones and tiny microscopic ones. Only saw one fish on the surface, classic ghetto river style. We made it back to the car, laughed at how pissed Mike was going to be and called it a day…. Good times, great day on the ghetto river.